


Blue and Binary

by Synthpop



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Spoilers, Blow Jobs, Explicit Language, M/M, Other, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Sexual Content, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-08 03:28:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4289004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synthpop/pseuds/Synthpop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony finds Vision endearing, although the realization dawns on him quite suddenly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Of course Tony was suspicious of the Vision when he arrived at his condo’s door. Why wouldn't he be? It was human nature to be wary around an unknown creature, especially when that creature was much, much higher up on the food chain than he.

Company and curiosity, the Vision had said, were the reasons for his sudden arrival. He had half-strolled, half-floated his way into Tony’s abode, making himself at home almost instantly. Perhaps it was the JARVIS gene that made him feel so comfortable in the unfamiliar space—or, maybe he was just a socially awkward idiot with little regard for manners. It was probably the latter, considering he had been born less than a year ago.

Their conversations had been innocent enough, with Vision wandering through the spacious rooms and observing scattered furniture while he asked polite questions about Tony’s current life and well-being. Tony had answered with enough honesty to satisfy him, although he kept his guard up: with things heating up with Avengers business, he wasn’t sure whom to trust. Vision’s questions, though—which slowly morphed into more thought-requiring discussions about technology and philosophy—seemed honest, and appeared to have sprung from his own mind rather than from a more sinister force.

So Tony let him prattle on, figuring it harmless enough. They spoke of life, of Ultron and Infinity Stones and vibranium, of the past and the future and the multiverse. Well, Vision spoke of them: Tony was content on nodding and chipping in only when he felt like it, always with a drink in hand and fingers rubbing at his temples. Admittedly, he didn’t exactly remember when Vision slipped out that first night; he had awoken in his bed the following morning with his blanket draped over him, although he could not recall how he got there.

Vision returned several nights later, and once again found his way over to Tony’s comfortable couch.

“I feel some connection to you,” he said calmly as he declined a drink. “I feel, somehow, that I should be spending more time with you than I have been. I owe you an incredible amount, and I have yet to thank you properly.”

Tony raised the glass he had offered Vision to his own lips and took a sip. “You don’t need to thank me,” he dismissed, waving off the sentiment with a flick of his hand. “Thank that thing in your forehead. I mean, you could thank Ultron, too, but that might be giving that jackass a little too much credit, don’t you think?”

Vision watched him closely, his lips quirking up in a small smile. “You did more than that. You are not giving yourself enough credit, and I do not understand why.” He leaned forward and held his gaze steadily, as if analyzing Tony’s every move. “You are… incredibly unique, indeed.”

Tony thought the comment strange, but then again, everything about the Vision was strange. From the way he looked to his magnificent powers, to the terrible familiarity of his voice… his entire being reeked of oddity. Besides, the conversation switched topics once Vision had disapprovingly noted that Tony was pouring himself a drink in an even larger glass.

Vision’s visits continued regularly enough, with him showing up at Tony’s home unannounced once every week. The day was chosen randomly, and Tony sometimes had to wonder if Vision had ever arrived when he had been out, and if he had stood alone outside, waiting for a greeting that would never come. At least the New York condo was close to the new Avengers' facility: not in walking distance, but hey, flying distance was completely different.

Tony hated to admit it, but the visits were actually kind of… nice. The Vision was a fascinating entity, and although he was a bit dense when it came to social matters, the capability of his mind was incredible. Tony often found himself spread out on the couch, face towards the ceiling as Vision’s cool, tender voice coaxed him into a trance. He would try his best to maintain a conversation, sure, but it was just so _easy_ to fall back into the plush cushions and drift away to the sound of the soft words as sweet as cream.

Sometimes he was sober and awake enough to wave Vision away—other times, he would wake up in his bed, cozy and snug as he had been that first night. It became a routine: an odd, disjointed, weird-ass routine. Then again, he and Vision were both odd, disjointed, weird-ass people, so he supposed that it suited their odd, disjointed, weird-ass relationship fine enough.

One night, after a quiet day of architectural designing (that stupid facility wasn’t going to mend itself, not with more super-freaks blowing the place up), Tony heard a timid knock on the door. He glanced up from his hand-drawn sketches and frowned: his natural assumption was that it was Vision, but the synthezoid had just visited him two days ago. Were they upping the encounters to bi-weekly, he mused?

“C’mon in,” he shouted from his desk. Damn, it was moments like then when he really missed FRIDAY: he hadn’t bothered to hook her up in the condo yet, as he hadn’t planned on spending too much time there. If the person at the door wasn’t Vision, well… he would cross that bridge when he came to it.

The door whined open and then clicked shut. Well, he hadn’t been shot yet, so he assumed that the person was benevolent, at least. Tony shuffled the papers on his desk in a haphazard attempt to clean, huffed in frustration, and then gave up. He had to finish working on the project after the visit was done, so there was no point in tidying up—like how there was no point in making a bed when he was just going to sleep in it again the next morning. It wasn't as if he had anyone to impress with his bedroom anymore, anyway.

Tony pushed his chair back and stood. “Now, who could be dropping by to visit me at this time of night, hm?” he asked as he turned to face the entryway. His suspicion had been correct: standing in his small foyer was the Vision, in all of his otherworldly wonder.

His bright, whirling eyes scanned him over, once. His expression was grave, Tony noticed with a small frown: but, in an instant, his brow-line had softened, and his lips spread into a small smile.

“Good evening, Tony,” Vision greeted, holding up his hand in a wave.

Tony glanced at the time. It was nearing ten o’clock at night… it was a bit late for one of Vision’s appointments. Something was definitely up, although he couldn’t even begin to fathom what. Surely it wasn’t an emergency, or he would have Cap or Fury on the phone instead.

“Couldn’t you just float in? Phase through the wall or whatever?” Tony said as he slid into his living room. “That would make your entrance about ten times cooler and way more dramatic.”

Raising a hand and cupping his chin, Vision took the time to ponder Tony’s words. “Do you think that would be fitting? Hmm, I believe you may have a point. Perhaps, next time, I will not knock at all, and simply appear behind you while you work. I will have the friendliest of smiles, I assure.” His eyes twinkled. “Would you prefer that?”

“Not if it’s at ten at night, kiddo,” Tony mumbled, then wrapped his way around to the small kitchen on the far side of the room. One of the reasons he could deal with Vision so very tactfully was thanks to alcohol: God, he had no idea if he could handle him completely sober. He doubted he could deal with anything completely sober, actually. “Speaking of which, it’s kind of late. What’s bugging you?”

Vision’s gliding was almost completely silent, but Tony had heard it enough times in the quiet condo to pick up on the pattern. He was heading over to one of the couches. “I apologize if my arrival is out-of-line. I can leave, if I am disturbing you. I simply felt… a desire to see you. Is that—strange?”

Tony hesitated as he reached for the fridge. Was that… _nervousness_ he heard in that beautifully even voice? Surely not—this was the _Vision,_ after all. Still, the pauses and stutters made him curious.

“Not strange at all! It’s nighttime, you’re bored and lonely, and you want some nice conversation before you go to sleep, huh?” Instead of getting a drink, Tony decided that he would much rather focus on whatever was ruffling Vision’s feathers (he was probably already buzzed, anyway—when wasn’t he?).

“I do not need to sleep,” came the level reply.

“Well, then—maybe you just want to have a chat with your old man? There’s nothing wrong with that, either.” Tony sauntered back into the living room, able to see his guest again.

Vision frowned at him—and what an ugly look it was, with those harshly folded brows and wrinkled, firm lips. “The child puns are getting slightly unnerving,” he muttered with a dash of pique.

“Child puns? What, do you not think of me as your dad? I’m hurt.” Tony flopped down onto the other couch opposite of Vision, as per their usual arrangement. He laid back and stretched his arms over his head, while his knees popped up as he arched. It felt nice to spread out after a day hunched over a desk—another reason why he looked forward to Vision’s random confrontations.

Vision sat with his legs crossed courtly over one another and his hands folded in his lap, like any proper gentleman with that cooing voice would. He kept his penetrating gaze steady on Tony: he felt like _he_ was the one being scolded by his dad, here, not the other way around. What a disappointed look.

“It is not that I do not care for you,” the Vision elaborated with a small sigh. “You must understand that I, as an entity, am not… normal. It is true that you assisted in my creation, as did Dr. Banner, Mr. Odinson, and Dr. Cho, but the situation was so bizarre and desperate that it feels improper to refer to the event as a ‘birth.’ By extent, I feel as if crediting you as a parental unit is not only a misnomer, but frankly, incorrect.”

By the heaviness and careful selection of his words, it sounded like he had been planning on saying something for a while (thanks to Tony’s obnoxious jokes, no doubt). How long had that been bothering him, exactly? Tony called the poor guy “junior” and “kiddo” constantly, just to mess with him—had he been making him uncomfortable the entire time? He almost felt guilty.

Tony craned his neck and narrowed his eyes—not in distrust, but in thought. “Does this mean I can’t tease Bruce with ‘hot dad’ mugs when he shows up? Oh man, I had been planning on getting a shirt for Thor, too. I got Helen a bumper sticker that said ‘hot mom,’ but when I dropped it off, all she did was hit me with it.”

A smile graced those tight lips, instantly easing Vision’s countenance. “I do not blame her. I would not appreciate the harassment, either. I have spoken to Dr. Cho about the subject, and she feels the same as I. That is one of the reasons why I am telling you to stop, before the situation escalates.” And, again, the pointed frown and tangled brow returned, as quickly as they had gone.

Tony propped his head up with a knuckle before he twisted himself to face Vision, fully. “Does it really bother you that much? I mean, I’ll stop if you want me too—I guess—but, uh. My feeble human mind has a bit of a hard time fathoming what else you’d be.”

“You need not put yourself down. It is I who am making matters more complicated than they deserve to be.” Vision paused for a second, and then tilted his head. “Tell me, Tony, what was JARVIS to you?”

The name so blatantly mentioned made Tony’s pores prick uncomfortably beneath his clothes. JARVIS and his figurative death were some of his bigger no-no topics. Vision knew that, too, for his face fell in realization only a beat after the words left his mouth, and his muscles tensed as he prepared to stand. “I am sorry, you do not need to answer that. That was insensitive of me.”

“No,” Tony interrupted, shaking his head. He heaved a breath and tore his gaze away from Vision, focusing on the whirring ceiling fan instead. He didn’t want to seem weak, especially in front of this guy. “It’s fine. Whatever. Don’t act like you’re going to break me, Vizh. It’s patronizing.”

Tony could tell by the tone of his voice that Vision was hurt. His voice had started to waver with uncertainty, as it had before. “I-I see. You have my sincerest apologies. I did not mean to come off as condescending—I respect you very much, and I hold you in high regard despite what flaws you have shown to possess—”

Yeah, Tony wasn’t going to sit there and listen to Vision struggle to compliment him. He might as well just answer the question, to steer the flailing conversation back on track. “JARVIS was one of my best friends. He was there for me when nobody else could be, and he did his job. I was proud of him.” He rubbed at his face, stretching the skin below his eyes as he heaved a deep breath. It was kind of difficult to talk about JARVIS to Mr. Not-JARVIS, Mr. I-Am, but he had been preparing for the topic to crop up for a while.

Vision chose his response cautiously; he took so long, Tony was afraid he had given up entirely. Fortunately, he did eventually speak up, although his voice was incredibly subdued. “You see? You speak of him as a dear friend rather than your child, despite being his creator. Could I not fit into a similar role?”

The fan was starting to bore him, so Tony decided to glance back to his guest. He had trouble telling if that lip-biting, brow-furrowing look simply sprung from concern over Tony, or if it was rooted in something deeper. “Why does it bother you so much, Hot Stuff?” he asked as he rolled over onto his stomach.

“The relationship a father and child traditionally share in American culture differs greatly from the one which two friends share. I do not believe our relationship can be quantified by using familial terms, whereas the concept of ‘friend’ lends itself more directly to growth and development.” He tipped his head, blinked, and then looked at Tony for support. “Do you understand my point?”

“Uh.” He really should’ve grabbed that drink while he was standing; now he didn’t want to get up. “Yes?”

Vision’s face fell into something resembling a scowl, only more… dignified. “You are important to me. I enjoy your company, so much so that I go out of my way to seek it out. It brings me pleasure. You are my friend—however, I do not consider you a fatherly figure. I apologize if that upsets or offends you.”

Tony bounced his chin off of the soft cushions of the couch as he digested what Vision was trying to convey. “If that’s what you want, then whatever,” he said, figuring that it was best not to think too hard about it. “You can’t really go around and ask other sentient, synthetic androids what they think defines family, so I’ll go ahead and let you have the benefit of the doubt.” He offer his companion a smile, one he hoped came off as reassuring rather than condescending. “Take all of my previous ‘daddy’ jokes as lewdly inappropriate rather than genuine, then.”

“I was interpreting them as inappropriate to begin with,” Vision deadpanned.

“Ah,” crooned Tony as he waggled a finger, “that explains it. You couldn’t get over how amazingly charming, witty, and talented I am, and started feeling things for me that made your circuits short out in confusion. There’s no need to justify your feelings, kiddo—everybody has had the hots for me at some point. Just making my way down the list.” He grinned, cheekily, and totally would’ve given Vision a jab with his elbow should he have been closer. A joke was always a nice way to end a serious conversation from delving into awkward, boring territory.

It took him a few laughter-filled seconds to realize that Vision certainly wasn’t laughing, but that he was, as a matter of fact, deadly silent.

When Tony had calmed down enough to focus on the figure sitting across from him, he was able to notice how truly _mortified_ he was. Vision’s mouth hung agape, and his blue eyes spun and whirled and calculated in utter confusion. He had drawn in close to himself as if he had just been lashed out at, while his lips quivered with words unwilling to comply. In the end, the only words that arrived were small and quavering.

“…My circuitry cannot _short out_ ,” the Vision denied, as gracefully as any six-month-old robot could.

Tony blanched, baffled for an instant. Now, there was a strange reaction. Had he struck a nerve?

“Hey now, what’s wrong?” he pried as he propped himself up with his arms. “You can take jokes better than that. I’ve seen you do it.”

The Vision blinked three times in rapid succession. “A joke?” The concept boggled him for a few seconds. “Oh, yes, a joke. I am sorry—you seemed incredibly… serious, in that instant. The juxtaposition of your tone and the content of your words befuddled me, momentarily.” In an attempt to regain his bearings (and his dignity), he cleared his throat and straightened his back. “Fear not, for it was only a momentary lapse of judgement. Human concepts of humor and sarcasm often escape me—”

“Hold up.” Tony narrowed his eyes, and Vision almost appeared to _shrink_ in response. “If you didn’t think it was a joke, then—?”

Vision was quick to cut him off. “Indeed,” he said with some haste, “although I am able to employ some strategies of humor myself, I do so subconsciously. When other people employ the same techniques, though, I sometimes do not understand the joke until it is fully elaborated.” His gaze darted from Tony to the floor, his irises shifting their lovely, snowflake-like patterns all the while.

He had never seen him so unnerved before. Sheepish, sure. Embarrassed, yeah. But this? Vision was practically drowning in his own anxiety. Was that due to the topic at hand, or was he just an awful liar? Although, as he watched Vision squirm and fiddle, Tony realized that there was really only one logical explanation for his behavior.

“Holy shit,” he breathed. “I hit the nail on the goddamn head, didn’t I?”

“I do not know what you are referring to. What nails? I see no nails.”

“Holy _shit_!” Tony scrambled to sit up straight. A gigantic, mischievous grin curled on his face, like the smirk of an imp or siren, and he leaned forward off the edge of the couch to be as close to him as he could. “It’s true! You like what you see, do you? Can’t keep your wandering thoughts away from me?” God, it felt like he had just struck it rich. “Don’t worry, people fall for me who really shouldn’t all the time—it comes with the whole ‘playboy philanthropist’ thing. No need to feel guilty.” He pulled on his clothes so that they sat right over his muscles, as there was now, apparently, somebody there who was worth impressing.

The scowl was back in full force. “You are jumping to exceptionally rash conclusions,” Vision murmured. Oh, Tony _totally_ would’ve put money down on the bet that he would _totally_ be blushing if his skin wasn’t already blood red.

“I am jumping to completely verified conclusions.” Tony rose to his feet and ran his hands through his hair, like a scientist in the afterglow of a fabulous discovery. “Oh man, I need to call Helen—damn, I wish Bruce were here—wait, no, no.” He began to pace back and forth, rolling on his heel every time he hit a barrier. “You know, there’s really no reason he shouldn’t be able to have a libido, right? He can experience every other emotion just fine. He’s probably even more man than machine. Who’s there to thank, though—Cho’s body? The Mind Gem? Is my little JARVIS creeping up from the depths of his subconscious to fuck around with his brain?”

“I am still here. There is no need to speak as if I were not.”

Tony stopped his stride and turned his head to see Vision. He was sitting in the same place, although his shoulders had given up maintaining a prim position, and he had slouched forward in complete fatigue. “You are mistaken, you realize.”

“Am I?” Tony walked around the central table and approached him, still beaming. Vision scooted an inch away. “Look me in the eyes and say that, then. Say that you don’t find Tony Stark irresistible in every sense of the word.”

And, indeed, Vision looked straight into Tony’s eyes and said, “Not in every sense of the word, I guarantee you of that.”

“But in some senses?”

Vision pushed himself up off the couch. “I did not come here to be harassed,” he said with a deep frown.

“Most?”

They were standing somewhat close together, and when Vision tilted his head to give Tony the most exhausted of all looks, it was personal. “You are _impossible_.”

“Ah, but that’s what gives me my charm, isn’t it?” Tony countered as he reached forward to give Vision a poke in the stomach. Much to his chagrin, his finger ended up passing right through the skin, and the sight of himself disappearing into Vision startled him enough to pull his entire hand back to his side. “Hey, now, no need to get angry. You know I was honestly joking about the list thing, right? I wouldn’t have been that blunt if I had known. I definitely would’ve teased you more, first.”

“Goodbye, Tony.”

“Hey there, big boy, don’t turn red. Well, you’re already red, so maybe you’d turn… uh, purple?” Tony stepped in front of Vision in an effort to cut him off his escape. Of course, if he so chose, Vision could simply phase through Tony or float over him, but… hopefully the puppy-dog eyes were enough to keep him stationary. So far, it seemed to be working. “Okay, I might be being a little mean here, but can you blame me? This situation is _kind of_ hilarious.”

It was a wonder that Vision hadn’t started to walk away. His lips were tightly pursed whenever he wasn’t speaking, like he was a second away from shouting. Now that was something that Tony would like to see. “I implore you to explain what exactly about this situation is humorous,” he dared, a trace of annoyance in his normally so _composed_ tone.

Tony shrugged his shoulders. “You. Me. You being incredibly dense and ridiculous about a crush. Golly gee, has that been the reason you’ve been seeing me all along? You became my friend just to get into my pants? Why, mister, I feel used.” He feigned a hurt expression and pressed his hand against his own chest in choreographed dismay.

“Mr. Stark,” Vision responded coldly, “I do not understand what you are referring to. I do not wish to crush you. And, as for your latter statement, why—” He looked off into space in a way Tony could only describe as _brooding_ , “—I cannot feel, for I am but a machine. That is not in my programming.”

A small snort of amusement escaped Tony’s throat. “Your Commander Data bullshit isn’t going to work on me. You can’t pull that stunt after the past few months we’ve spent together. Nice shot, though.”

Vision maintained his elegant pose for a few moments, before he released a long puff of air and let a defeated smile conquer his lips. “It was worth a try.” He gave Tony a sideways glance. “It appears that my brief surprise led to my downfall. I have been meaning to bring up the matter of our relationship for a while now, but I could not find the right moment. Tonight—well, I suppose I simply felt ‘fed up,’ if that is the correct phrase.” He crossed his arms over his chest and bowed his head, as if a great thought had passed through his mind.

Tony took the silence as an invitation to start talking again. “How long has it been eating at you, honey?” he asked.

“Not for as long as I believe you are imagining. Your egotism may be clouding your judgment.” Tony scoffed at him playfully, but Vision paid him no heed. His gaze was focused solely on the ground. “I was truthful that first night, when I said I came to you because of curiosity and the desire for company. I felt… drawn to you. You are a very important person to me, and I owe you an incredible deal—it was most likely those feelings of honor that spurred on my desire to seek your companionship. You may interpret this as what is left of JARVIS attempting to communicate, but I assure you, I am not JARVIS. I—”

“Am,” Tony finished, his tone growing a bit impatient. He enjoyed seeing Vision flare in embarrassment, but at the same time, he wished he would quit dodging the bullet and just say something of actual worth. “You am. Uh, you _are_. Yeah. I’ve heard that one before.”

The terrifyingly irritated glare Vision shot him was enough to shut him up. “And so,” he continued without breaking eye contact, “I sought you out. I continued visiting every week, and despite your egotism and biting sarcasm, I still felt connected to you. I could not put the feeling into words.” He blinked, eased the severity of his features, and sighed. “I asked my fellow companions at the facility what they thought of my predicament. Miss Maximoff said I might be fascinated with you like how, as she put it, ‘a child is fascinated by a helpless, stupid worm.’ Captain Rogers confirmed that what I feel must be what a son feels for a father, but I could not shake the feeling that was an incorrect statement.” He paused, and then spun on Tony fully, his golden cape fluttering behind him. “Colonel Rhodes suggested that the feeling might be quantified as love.”

Rhodey. Of course it was Rhodey. God, he felt like flying over there and either smacking or kissing him: he wasn’t quite sure which one, yet.

“And do you, uh—do you agree with the Colonel’s diagnostic? Or am I a worm?” Tony inquired as he eyed the furling cape (because, as silly as it was, it did make Vision appear a lot _bigger_ than normal).

“One may feel love for a family member: this much is obvious. However, the love shared between relatives and the passion of true _lovers_ are very different entities indeed. Platonic affection is also a very strong force.” Tony felt like he was being studied: Vision’s gaze unraveled him, stripped him down to his vulnerable nakedness. For some reason or another, he was finding it difficult to breathe.

“I attempted to apply the concept of ‘love’ to all of my close personal relationships. Captain Rogers, I feel, is more of a traditional ‘father’ figure to me than you are, and thus I view him as such. I am close to Miss Maximoff, and she is very dear to my heart, but she does not… inspire anything within me. The same can be applied to Colonel Rhodes, Mr. Wilson, Miss Romanoff—and most other people with whom I am familiar. That, I believe, is platonic love.”

Tony swallowed a hot mouthful of saliva as Vision took a step towards him. He held himself tall and tried to remain as steady as possible, for at some point, the gaiety of the conversation had faded. What it had been replaced with was still unknown.

Vision must have noticed Tony’s hesitance, for he ceased his stride and regarded him, thoughtfully. “You, on the other hand, are an enigma,” he continued, carefully. “You cause something within me to swell to a boil. I am captivated by you, and continue to seek out your company despite all reason dictating that I should not be as intrigued as I am. It is… distressing.” Amusement flickered behind his eyes. “I was planning on keeping this passion a secret, as I was certain that you would not reciprocate—it is in your nature. However, you pried the information from me, so thus, I gave it.”

Somewhere at the back of his mind, Tony was completely aware that this situation was getting very dangerous, very fast. He could easily brush off Vision’s concern with a laugh, or simply give him the same jeer he would give any one of his fans who worshipped the ground he walked on: yet, somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to step down. Something inside of him was keeping him stupidly, childishly vulnerable.

“What, exactly, do I ‘inspire’ in you?” he wondered aloud. “You know me and my ego—I just love to know these kind of things.”

The smile that stole Vision’s lips was warm, if not mysterious, and his laughter was just the same. Tony felt his heart buckle in his chest.

“I believe it would be easier to demonstrate.”

And then his own lips were sealed with a bittersweet kiss.


	2. Chapter 2

Vision’s lips were definitely not what Tony was expecting. Well, it wasn’t like Tony had been expecting or envisioning the situation in the first place, but still. He was intrigued to feel that Vision’s lips were exceptionally firm and ridged in their texture, far from even the coarsest of human lips, and he tasted of the hot tang of metal. Foreign breath filled his throat and—oh, he was hot. When they pulled apart, the grooves of Vision’s lips clung to Tony’s by the thinnest tendrils of broken skin.

From so close, Tony could fully enjoy just how beautiful and complex those swirling eyes were: they focused, twisted, analyzed, and did so in a beautiful vortex of blue and binary. Their pull was magnetic, especially when contrasted against the flushed red of Vision’s skin.

He was so infatuated with his beauty, he barely noticed that the pair of eyes he had been ogling were, in fact, narrowed with expectance.

“I could attempt to play the part of the innocent and say something along the lines of, ‘I assume that is an act of human affection,’ yes? However, I already know that feigning ignorance would be wasted on you.” His smile was tinged with the faintest hint of pain. After that kiss, Tony couldn’t stop thinking about the hidden roughness of that kind smile, and he couldn’t stop looking at it. As he licked his own lips, he could taste the coppery, fleshy nakedness of where some of his thin skin had been stripped away.

“Well, that’s your own fault,” Tony said, seeming to address the lips alone. “You know, for an all-powerful, Christmas-colored robot mastermind, you’re awful at hiding how you’re feeling. You have the emotional tact of a kindergartener.” He forced his gaze back up to meet Vision’s ethereal eyes. “It’s kinda cute.”

Vision drew his head back as he blanched in shock. “Cute?” he parroted, dumbfounded. “That is… not the word I had been expecting.”

With an interested raise of his brows, Tony responded, “You were expecting something?”

“…Somewhat? I have been told that it is best to have little expectations for the future, but—well, that is a delightfully pessimistic statement, do you not agree? Incredibly human, but also incredibly misguided.”

Despite talking like a sad robot grandpa, Vision remained close to Tony. His hands hung at his sides, although Tony swore he had felt their heat blistering him beneath his clothing during the kiss. “That is hypocritical of me, though. I had been preparing for the worst, myself. Although, judging from your response, I would say that my preparation was not in vain.” And, there it was again—that self-deprecating, pathetic smile of resignation.

God, the sight of that disgusting look marring Vision’s beautiful face made Tony furious. Vision was a perfect, cherry-colored cherub of a being that had crawled his way up from the depths of death and despair, forging his own destiny along the way—goddamn, he didn’t deserve to be torn up over something so stupidly unimportant. World-shaking, universe-bending events should be what challenged his worthiness, not stupid crushes on stupid, selfish billionaires.

So, yeah, there was really only one way to wipe that dumb expression clean from his face: Tony grabbed Vision’s shoulders and pulled him close, crushing their lips together.

Vision gasped in surprise, and the way that heavenly voice rumbled down Tony’s throat was enough to affirm that his choice had been the right one. The lips, the flavor, the heat of their bodies against one another… it was terribly dizzying. Even Vision couldn't control his need to press further into pleasure, as his hands pawed at Tony’s back like a starving dog.

It was Tony who broke the kiss to breathe: again, he felt his skin peel away by the crudity of those lips. “Prepare for the worst but hope for the best, right?” he joked, his words breathy and weak but still with just as much bite.

Although he had been lost in the kiss, as soon as the pressure was lost, Vision instantly regained his sense of awareness. His whole face fell, crestfallen, and he drew warily away. “You should not—I should not—this is….” His eyes sought solace in every direction besides Tony’s. “This is a mistake. Oh, I have made a terrible mistake. This was an awful idea—I should not have said anything—this is ridiculous….”

“You’re being pretty ridiculous yourself.” He caught Vision’s shoulder before he could move away, and gave it a light squeeze. “You were the one going on about demonstrating, weren’t you? I learn better by doing, anyway, so I think this is best for the both of us. Besides, I tend to tune people out when they talk for too long.” He smirked. “No offense.”

Vision looked very much offended. “You are ridiculous. Oh, if only I had the power to turn these emotions off… life would be so much simpler.” Even with his complaints, he remained very much under Tony’s touch.

“We’ve all been there, kiddo. No need to whine about it.”

“I am not whining,” whined Vision, and although he had the power to keep up the charade, it was obvious that his resolve was quickly fading. He did not meet Tony’s gaze, but he let himself indulge in the sight of Tony’s body, starting from his legs, then trailing from his pelvis up to his pecs. There was something humorous hidden in the fact that he was being checked out by an android, he thought.

Tony trailed his hand from Vision’s shoulder to his face, pausing when he reached his lips. His thumb lightly grazed over them, still reveling in their texture. “Show, don’t tell,” he said, and completed his advice with a wink.

Vision scoffed, then frowned. Tony was going to give him another friendly jostle, but his advice kicked in just in time: Vision was on him in an instant, hands clawing and mouth open and hungry tongue ridged and rough and metallic. Tony reached his arms around with the intent to grope his ass (which he hoped would provoke some sort of reaction, maybe a moan or squeak), but instead found his hands bundled in the billows of a flowing cape.

He gave the fabric a pointed tug and growled into Vision’s mouth, “Make this stupid thing go away. Holy shit, we’re not doing this with this thing on.”

Vision nuzzled into Tony’s cheek to let him speak, planting kisses on the prickled stubble. “And what are we doing, exactly?” he asked with far too much fake innocence.

“My God, you’re awful. Who taught you your manners?” He slipped his hand beneath the cape and ghosted the pads of his fingers gently over Vision’s back. “We’re doing whatever you care to demonstrate, buddy. I’m not in charge.”

“What a relief.” Vision’s low laughter humming so closely to Tony’s chest was hypnotizing. He was getting dizzy just from being near him, like some sort of fifteen-year-old boy too drunk and too virgin for his own good.

He must have been pretty obvious, for after an experimental nip at his neck, Vision pulled away. “What I have in mind requires a change in scenery,” he teased. “Do you have a bedroom?

Tony groaned, miserably. He better not be like this the entire time, or he was going to kill himself. “Of course I do, you asshole—it’s in the back. I’ll show you where—Jesus Christ!”

Before he could seductively lead the way towards the bedroom (like he had been plotting the entire time, damn it), Vision reached his arms under Tony’s ass and hoisted him effortlessly into the air. He may have yelped, but that really wasn’t important—he was forced to wrap his misplaced legs around the synthezoid’s torso and lean hard into his chest so he wouldn’t lose his balance.

“What the hell, man? Warn me before you do that!” he yelped from his uncomfortable angle, wedged into Vision’s neck.

He laughed again and pulled Tony closer towards him. “I apologize. I simply calculated that it would be faster this way.”

Tony felt the gravity binding them to earth slowly give way as Vision rose into the air. He kept a firm hold on him, but his floating was getting a little erratic: what started as a gradual rise turned into a spin, and Tony found himself having to grip tightly onto Vision for support (which ended up as a desperate attempt to claw at his cape).

He pulled harshly at the cloth again, as it was the only thing he had beneath his palms. “W-what the hell—you say you’re sorry, but—goddamn it, why the fuck are you spinning?”

The bubbling laughter was hard to get too mad at. Luckily for him, Vision slowly drew the spinning to a stop, and then pulled back to look Tony in the eyes. His lips were drawn in the most vivid, striking smile he had ever seen the guy wear.

“I am sorry,” he whispered, despite not looking very sorry at all. “You told me not to whine about being overcome with emotion, so I remained quiet. Shall I speak my mind, instead?”

Tony hissed an annoyed breath, “Jesus, I didn’t sign up for this sass. Hurry up, man, you’re killing me.”

And, surprisingly, Vision obeyed without a single quip—although he did lower his brow-line in a way Tony took as suggestive. He floated towards the bedroom at the end of the hall, sans the spinning, and shut the door behind him with his foot. He approached the bed and, when he was finally clear, lightly lowered Tony onto the mattress and forced their lips together again.

Vision was lot heavier than he looked (or maybe denser, it was difficult to tell). His rough skin was covered in a smooth, tight layer of spandex, and his every sliding movement against Tony was terribly lacking the same sort of friction that came from normal cloth or human skin. It didn’t really matter, though: Vision’s lips and his wandering hands and the excitement of it all were already starting to get him half-hard.

His fingers slipped up Tony’s shirt and gently traced over his skin and muscles, leaving goosebumps in their wake. God, he didn’t want gentle, even if that was the word that Vision embodied the most. He reached down to the hem of his own shirt and tugged it up unsuccessfully, and once Vision noticed, he was helped out of it. He was left with only a pair of jeans and his dreadfully dwindling dignity.

Tony regretfully parted their lips. Vision made a move to chase after him, but he pressed his hand against his chest in protest. “Okay, wait, I have—questions,” he rasped, his words husky with heat.

Pausing the sweeping of his hands, the Vision looked down at Tony, curiously. He tactfully responded, “You may ask me anything you desire.” The way the word “desire” rolled off his tongue, so sweetly and so heavily, made Tony shiver.

“I—uhn.” He glanced up to see the silhouette of Vision swooping over him, gigantic and beautiful and still in that stupid-ass cape. “Okay, first of all, take that thing off, please.”

He looked behind him and blinked. “Are you impatient?” he inquired with a hint of mischief. “I promise that everything will be removed in time. Also, that was not a question.”

“No—well, yes, to the question and the—God.” Tony gave the back of Vision’s thigh a little reprimanding nudge with his foot in an attempt to accent his point. “What I mean is, capes are stupid. They’re also the least-sexy thing ever, and it’s hard to get aroused when I look at you if the first thing I see is a bright yellow curtain.”

“Well.” Vision looked a bit taken aback. “I like my cape. I think it is elegant.” Even so, he complied swiftly, for—starting at the wispy ends—the cape began to shimmer and fade into nothingness. Soon the base at his shoulders had faded as well, replaced only by the smoothness of bright skin.

Tony grunted gratefully and rewarded him with another long, sweltering kiss. Vision’s hands returned to their gliding: they paused at the dips of his abs and grazed over his stomach, learning and memorizing. They never climbed up to his chest, as if in a conscious effort to avoid what used to be a very sensitive, crucial part of Tony’s being. Vision either remembered, or he had gathered enough information for a probable conclusion. The fingers instead focused on mapping his stomach and torso, brushing over the thick trail of hair leading from his navel down to below his belt and offering them a light, tentative massage along their length.

“Wait—ugh….” Tony craned his head away from him, sucking in air while he could (for Vision seemed content to continue kissing with little regard for Tony’s need for oxygen). This time, Vision used the opportunity to grate his teeth along his exposed neck. “I still have—uh—questions?”

“What is it?” he rumbled into Tony’s skin through his nipping teeth. His patience was being tested, apparently.

“I wanna—I wanna make something completely straight, here. I know that I was just lecturing you for talking too much, but this is important.”

Vision sensed the urgency in Tony’s voice and, after a sigh, propped himself up so he could look him in the eyes. “Anything you desire,” he reiterated.

“Okay, well. There’s no way of sugar-coating this, so I’ll just go ahead and say it.” Tony shifted awkwardly beneath the weight with which Vision straddled his torso… and yeah, that was precisely the problem. Nothing pressed against him, only smoothness and raw, mechanical heat.

“You don’t have a dick, right?”

Surprisingly, Vision didn’t seem all that bothered or shocked by the question. He blinked and then cocked his head, a smile coming to his face. “Would it bother you if I confirmed your suspicion?”

Oh, God, he wasn’t sure if he was being offensive or not. It wasn’t like there were robot social justice communities he could ask for advice. Even if he was being offensive, well—he was Tony Stark, so when wasn’t he doing something problematic? He just wished he didn’t have to lose Vision’s respect so quickly.

“You remember that you popped out of that cradle buck-ass naked, right?” Tony said, wheezing out his own laugh. “You didn’t have one then, so no, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“I have to say, I feel a little bit violated that you could not resist the urge to look.”

“Well, you were right there. How could I not?” Tony rolled his eyes—he really didn’t need to justify himself, did he? “So, uh, my biggest concern is not being able to… return the favor, you know? I mean—there’s something to be said about worshipping, but—”

Vision shook his head and interrupted Tony with a short snort of laughter. “Does your mouth ever stop running?” he asked, and when Tony opened his mouth to point out his hypocrisy, he only continued to beam. “Oh, relax. As for your concern, I am touched that you worry for me, but fear not. I suspected this predicament would arrive, and trust me when I say that I efficiently prepared for it.”

Tony wasn’t quite sure what Vision meant or what he should expect. Before he could pry further, though, Vision lifted his upper body up off of Tony so only his pelvis remained straddled on him. In another dizzying, twinkling array of colors, the dark-green material that covered Vision’s body dematerialized to reveal all of his red skin, ribbed with emeralds and golds. Tony watched in fascination, and as his eager gaze traveled farther and farther downwards, he became aware of the blooming head of a dark-maroon erection peeking out between the back bows of Vision’s thighs and curling against his stomach.

At the sight, he instantly sat up as far as he could without bucking Vision off of him. “What the—what the hell? How the fuck did you do that? Can you grow capes and organs willy-nilly?” He reached one of his hands around to touch it, longing to feel its texture, but stopped himself before he got too hasty.

“I would not use the term ‘willy-nilly.’ It actually requires a bit of concentration.” Vision sat up taller and glanced down at his work, as if he were proud. “I asked for some advice and assistance from Dr. Cho, and she educated me as to the best methods of growth that could be achieved from the combined prowess of the vibranium body and the Mind Gem.”

That explained why she so strongly resented his lovely bumper sticker. He wondered how long Vision had been pining after him, really—rather, he wondered when it had elevated and when he had started asking Helen about his dick troubles. The poor woman had better things to worry about.

Tony patted the back of Vision’s calf and ordered with a grin, “Let me up, big guy.” When he submitted, he turned over and slipped off the edge of the bed, falling lightly onto his knees with a soft thud.

Vision scooted after him, a noticeably worried look on his face. “Did you lose your balance?” he asked as he swung his legs over the side, preparing to stand and help.

“Whoa, easy. Of course I didn’t lose my balance, what do you think this is?” He grinned up at his companion, devilishly, and skid so he was parked in between his knees. Vision’s distressed look didn’t lighten, but instead became even more tightly wound. “C’mon, lighten up a little.” Tony gave one of Vision’s thighs a resounding, reassuring smack, and then bowed his head forward to give the base of his cock a tender kiss.

He licked a hot trail up from the straining balls all the way to the head, wrapped a hand around the base, and pumped. He drew the cock’s length closer to his needy mouth, kissing and licking down its side, while his other hand stretched Vision’s thick, muscled thigh outwards to give himself more room.

Just like his lips, Vision’s dick had a metal-like sheen to it—instead of the earthy texture humans had, Vision’s hard skin was flowering with peaks and valleys. It reminded Tony of a dildo, cut and clean, but the way it quivered and curved and ached with fierce heat was enough to prove that it was very, very much alive.

Hands had tangled themselves in Tony’s hair, and he could hear grunts and soft mumbles of broken words. Feeling encouraged, he gave a few more long strokes along the length, and then took the entire head into his mouth.

He tasted metallic there, too—like oils and metals and stardust. The pre-cum that had been dribbling over the tip was near-flavorless rather than sickly salty, although there was a bitter, coppery aftertaste that was too new not to crave. Tony took more into his throat and bobbed his head, still stroking and twisting with his wrist in sync.

Somewhere from up above him, Vision cried his name with a crackle in his voice. “W-what are you—you must not—uhn….” His hold on Tony’s hair tightened and slackened in rhythm with his mouth, and his legs began to tremble.

Hearing that familiar, steady voice calling his name so desperately that it couldn’t even form a sentence… God, it drove Tony crazy. Maybe that was wrong and perverse even by his standards, but—everything was perverse in sex, right? It was sex, and he was Tony Stark. He could let himself live a little, let himself bathe in those wooing words and let them sink into his flesh, into his memory. He held the cock at its base and took it all into his throat, until his lips brushed his own knuckles and he was filled with burning warmth.

Vision’s hips were quavering, nearly bucking. “T-Tony…!” he continued to mewl, his breath shaking with something between a sob and a gasp. His face looked even more conflicted, with his eyes squeezed tightly shut and his mouth open and damp. Tony looked up at him through his eyelashes and hummed around his cock.

He was about to hollow out his cheeks and reach all the way back to the base again when Vision gave his hair a harsh tug. His lips separated from the cock with a wet pop, and his hands slipped away. Vision’s dick snapped back to his stomach with a small smack and, with a mangled gasp from those gorgeous lips, sputtered stringy ropes of clean-white cum onto his pure skin.

Tony stared, entranced, as the gorgeous, unblemished clarity of Vision’s toned body was sullied by his own fake seed. He rose a little bit taller off of his knees, craning to get a better look—and man, he was beautiful. He only spoke when it looked like his high was pretty much done, and when the pain stinging his scalp hurt enough to annoy him.

“I appreciate that you didn’t want me to gag, but you have to watch the hair next time, man,” he mumbled, removing Vision’s hands from the top of his head. “That hurt! You could’ve just given me a warning.”

Vision was completely out-of-breath, but he still had the strength to give in to Tony’s teasing. He swallowed a large gulp and gasped, “I am sorry. I—am inexperienced in this sort of territory.”

Tony snaked up Vision’s still-quivering thighs and rested his chin on one. “First time? How cute. I’m incredibly honored.” He smirked, although he was pretty sure that it must’ve looked silly with his swollen, post-blowjob lips.

“First time with another person, I must admit. That is viewed as a social flag for some cultures, is it not?”

“Depends on the person, I guess. Doesn’t mean jack shit to me.” Tony pushed himself up off the ground and joined Vision on the bed. He felt his own erection pulsing uncomfortably inside his jeans, and he frowned. “I’ll just need to take care of this and then go back to work, if you don’t mind—”

Vision leaned towards Tony and twisted his brow-line. “Take care of what?” he asked. He eyed the bulge curving along Tony’s leg. “That? By yourself?”

“Well, yeah.” He held his hands up and made a flicking motion, as if to shoo away the concern. “This is the first time you’ve done this, so congrats, but you don’t need to worry about me. I’m not gonna make you do something for me when you’re already long gone.” He knew how virginal sex drives were: raging rampantly one second and completely nonexistent after orgasm. He wished it could’ve lasted longer, but hey, the situation was weird enough by itself.

“Excuse me? What are you talking about?” Vision bit his lip—if Tony didn’t know any better, he would say that he was pouting. “I hope you are not under the impression that we are finished already.”

Tony glanced over at him, quizzically, but whatever question that may have been on his tongue was smothered by Vision’s. Touches probed at his waist and tugged at his belt, and although he had thousands of questions and concerns to voice, he couldn’t find the will to pull away and vocalize them.

Without breaking the kiss, Vision unbuckled the belt and set it off to the side. He attempted to pull the pants down in a single movement, but Tony hissed for him to stop.

“Careful around the boner,” he warned, then helped to pull his jeans and underwear off. His cock popped free, heavy and beading with arousal. He was now as exposed as Vision, spread out beside him and completely vulnerable. He was being observed like some sort of prize or trophy—that’s how he felt, anyway, with Vision marveling at his naked body so unashamedly.

“You are beautiful,” said he, eyes alight with wonder.

Tony twisted a bit. He felt blood rush to his face, as well as down to his twitching cock. “T-thanks,” he grumbled, and then felt the need to find a nice wall to look at. “So, what? Are you going to stare at me the whole time, or are you going to do something? I’ll gladly put on a show for you, but you gotta talk to me first. Communication is good, you know? As long as there’s a mix of talking and action.”

“A show is a rather tempting offer, but I would rather be more involved. I do like to observe, but—how did you put it? One tends to learn better by doing rather than watching.” Tony could feel Vision shift his weight and pull back from him, just by a hair.

“I’m thrilled.” His voice was flat. “I also told you to show, not tell. There’s that, too—nngh.”

He was cut off by Vision hooking a finger under his chin, angling his head, and bringing him close for another kiss. Unlike the previous ones they had shared, this one was bred in gentility, and felt soft against him even with the coarseness of his lips. When they parted, Vision was beaming that same wonderful smile, the one that filled his heart with childish hope and rose-tinted dreams of the future.

“You are beautiful, Tony,” he repeated, and this time, he made sure his meaning was received.

Tony kept their eyes locked for a few tense beats, not knowing exactly to respond to that confession. He pursed his lips and let the words soak before coming up with a retort. “For being the color of a maraschino cherry, you’re not too bad yourself.” He cleared his throat with a cough. “Okay, now, there’s condoms and lube in one of the drawers, but I’m going to warn you that might be venturing into hardcore territory a little too fast….”

“There is no need to fear.” Vision twisted around on the mattress so his back faced the bedrest, while the rest of his body spread towards Tony. “Both of those accessories are vital to normal sexual interaction, but I am not normal. I can self-lubricate.” He spread his legs a little bit wider, and the angelic look he had worn before was soon corrupted by lewd mischief. “See for yourself.”

It wasn’t hard to notice. Tony’s eyes were drawn to between Vision’s legs, and a small gasp of shock escaped him. The spent dick was gone, and in its place was instead a blossoming, plumply plum vulva, clit budding and entrance glimmering slick.

“What the fuck… when the hell did that happen?” Tony gaped and looked to Vision for some sort of explanation. God, he looked so smug, what the hell….

“While we were kissing. I am surprised you did not notice.”

“Why did it happen?”

“I expected that you desired penetration of a certain type, and I did not care to be on the giving end of that. Also, most of your previous sexual encounters have been with those with vulvae, so I assumed you would prefer this.”

“Dude,” Tony whined, “I just sucked you off. Did you really think I cared?”

Vision shrugged his shoulders, still smiling pompously. “Hm. For my own personal preference, then?”

Tony scowled. Well, whatever—he would just keep rolling with whatever punches Vision kept throwing at him. “What else can you do, huh? Can you grow cat ears and a tail while you’re at it? Wings? Two cocks? Ten cocks?”

“Changing my form and maintaining it takes effort,” he elaborated with a hum. “I doubt I could do something as complex as what you are referring to. Even functioning limbs would be useless in a battle setting.”

“But an organ is fine?” Tony approached Vision slowly on his hands and knees, lusting to get a better look. Whatever he was doing, it was sure close to the real deal: the salty scent of vaginal arousal hung high in the air and shot pulses straight to his dick, bringing it back to rest against his belly.

“Well,” Vision admitted, “I practiced.”

Tony wanted to fish for more information and unravel the mystery of exactly how Vision had prepared for this moment, but the thick smell and the vulva’s occasional twitch was far, far too much to handle.

The color was absolutely delectable: the swelling of whatever Vision had instead of blood (fake blood, maybe, just for the occasion) caused the whole organ to bloom in a pleasant, purple shade. He couldn’t help himself—he craned his neck and tongued a stripe down from the tight, beading clit to the entrance, where the smell was the strongest. He was already plenty wet, and the fluid tasted exactly like the fake semen, although its slick texture and transparency disguised itself near-perfectly as a human’s. He delved his tongue into him, working past the muscle, drunk on both flavor and scent.

Vision’s thighs were shuddering again, unable to keep themselves upright. “Y-you—ahn… you must stop,” he cried, and then used his foot to give Tony’s shoulder a light shove. “I—appreciate—the sentiment, but if you do that, the same thing will happen again. This is for you.”

Tony reeled back compliantly, but gave him a scrupulous look. “What do you want me to do, exactly?”

Vision huffed. “I do hope you are not expecting to hear me say something lewd in response to that question.” Tony puckered his lips in fake offense, but let him carry on. “I do not have a fully-functional uterus, much like how the organ before did not produce authentic sperm, so there is zero chance of fertilization. You need not worry about pregnancy or about the threat of sexually-transmitted diseases.”

He hadn’t really expected any of those problems to crop up, but… hey. Better safe than sorry. “Nothing’s sexier than STD and uterus talk,” Tony said, and gave his screaming erection a long pump. “Just show me what you want.”

Vision smiled, already used to hearing those words. He laid down against the mattress and reached his hands under his knees, pulling them back towards his head and lifting his pelvis slightly into the air. His vagina twitched, while droplets of liquid ran down the curve of his ass, leaving dark streaks on his skin.

“Would you, please?” Vision requested, and that was really all Tony needed to hear.

He crawled forward on his knees and angled his cock towards the royal-colored organ. He focused on Vision’s face, on his bright blue eyes and trusting (if not still very much smug) smile. He groaned quietly, guided himself into his entrance, and then pushed.

Vision was incredibly hot and slick, and God, it was definitely nowhere near what Tony was used to. The synthezoid’s face contorted as he was pushed apart, but he was able to ease the cock in more readily than Tony had guessed. He was tight, yes, but the farther he pushed, the harder Vision’s walls clung to him. It was like his shape was changing to fit the dick’s girth and length, squeezing and milking him at every opportunity.

“F-fuuuck…” Tony breathed, his own thighs beginning to shake. He brought his hands up to the back of Vision’s knees, displacing his hands to take hold of the legs himself. God, Vision really was beautiful: he was all angles, all edges sharpened to deathly perfection. His muscles rippled beneath his tight skin, and—Christ, he was all muscle, all swooping lines and bright color and utter, utter perfection. And the way he was looking back at him, with tears prickling at his wide eyes and mouth falling agape, he could only assume that Vision was thinking exactly the same thing about him.

He thrust in and out with his hips, each push inward receiving a grunt or a cry from Vision’s perfect voice. His pace was slow, tender—he couldn’t be harsh with him. The thought of defiling him in such an undignified manner was too much to handle, despite what his primal urges willed. He instead focused on making his reach deep, thrusting so that his balls pressed against his ass with every forward movement.

“Y-you can go—rougher,” Vision somehow managed. He was weakly rocking his own hips back against Tony, hoping to drive him in deeper. “You need not be—gentle….”

Yeah, he couldn’t agree with that. That wasn’t under his jurisdiction. He instead bent down and pressed kisses along the meat of Vision’s calf, licking and biting at what little fat he had. He kept the pace the same.

“Harder,” Vision chided again, his hips pumping a bit more frantically.

Tony half-glowered and mumbled an, “Easy there, cowboy,” into Vision’s muscle. He would savor this, he thought: he needed to make this pleasant for his guest, not for him. Slow, gentle, deep—graceful, just like the Vision himself.

What sounded like a growl of irritation left Vision’s lips. “Ridiculous,” he said for what had to be the hundredth time. Before Tony had time to figure out what he meant, much less react, the legs he had been holding gave him a violent push backwards as he had begun to pull out. He cried out with another “what the fuck” and fell back onto the bed, landing on his back.

Vision pursued him, moving to sit above Tony’s crotch with each of his knees holding him up for support. “It is rude of you to make me do this myself,” he sighed, and he reached down to wrap his fingers around his cock.

Tony was still recovering from what exactly had happened. He blinked, rapidly: their positions had been swapped, and now Vision loomed over him like an angel (or succubus), glowing and magnificent. “W-what the hell are you doing?”

He stroked Tony one or two times, and then positioned him right below his entrance. “You are the one who said ‘cowboy,’ did you not?” And, with another smarmy grin, his hips shook, and he lowered himself down onto the cock.

From this angle, too, the wet walls swallowed him, impossibly deep and impossibly warm. Tony threw his head back into the mattress, trying to smother whatever embarrassing sounds threatened to worm their way out of his throat. Vision’s hips raised him up, high, only to plunge himself down at every possible angle. Tony rocked into the touch as best as he could from his position, though he had little power: it was Vision controlling their speed, controlling how hard he was fucked, and he was but a tool. Their pace was hurried, virgin, with the sound of skin smacking balls becoming bizarrely rhythmic.

Vision bent forward, panting, while his hands raked through the matted hair on Tony’s chest. “You are beautiful—absolutely beautiful,” he repeated over and over, as if intoxicated. “You are beautiful and I want—I want you, Tony, more than the stars, than the moon, more than—!” His own cry of pleasure cut him off, and suddenly, the pressure encasing Tony’s cock squeezed and clenched around him. It felt like he was being swallowed whole, right there: Vision, the striking and beautiful Vision—a being infused with magic and lightning and infinity—was having him, devouring him, taking his heart for his own. And, god—that was enough to send him over the edge, crying out and clawing at Vision’s thighs and cumming into him as deeply as he could, balls flush against him.

Vision didn’t roll off of Tony until he was completely spent. His chest heaved with exhaustion, although he did eventually lift his hips. A quivering trail of fluid and cum connected them for an instant, but he flopped down next to Tony before he could truly enjoy it.

“I hope that was better,” he said, and smiled at Tony in that same universe-jarring way. “I trust that you are satisfied?”

“Uhn….” He could say that. God, he was normally somewhat composed after sex—this was just embarrassing. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, are you?”

“Very. That was… better than I had expected. This… entire night has gone in a way I had not been expecting at all.” He shifted his pelvis up, slightly. “This sticky sensation is not all that pleasant, though.”

Oh, shit. He had been so caught up in the moment, he had just… let himself do that. Tony shot straight up and looked down at Vision, horrified. Cum leaked from inside of him, the creamy color deliciously savory against the deep blush of his skin.

“Oh, Jesus—listen, I’m not really supposed to… that’s not… people don’t usually do that,” he rambled, sheepishly.

“It is fine,” Vision said, holding up a hand. “I will take care of this.” He blinked and then stared down at the droplets still dewing and rolling over his chest. Tony followed his gaze, and watched as the liquid seeped down into him and disappeared. The milky cum dribbling out from him, too, dripped onto the bed as if Vision’s body wasn’t there at all. He lifted his entire self into the air, levitating, and then floated over Tony to his other side and fell. The cum from his chest and from inside of him were left on the bed, staining the sheets, Tony was sure.

“That is much better,” he beamed, looking pleased.

Tony glanced from the stain to Vision, mouth wide. “Wha—what the hell was that?!” He grabbed for the nearest pillow and proceeding to whack the moron over the side of the head. It happened so suddenly, Vision didn’t have time to shift his density—and man, that thump was more satisfying than sex could ever hope to be. “You could’ve cleaned yourself up like a normal person, but you had to show off, huh? Guess what: this means you get to clean my sheets now, sweetie!”

Vision took the pillow from Tony’s grip and frowned. “I am not a normal person. Besides, you were planning on cleaning them anyway, I hope…? They were sullied long before that.”

“That’s not the point, damn it. I mean—I’m supposed to sleep here tonight. How am I supposed to do that now?”

“…Remove the sheet? You have many of them.”

“That’s also not the point.”

“What point are you referring to? Please, enlighten me.”

“Nope, too late. You killed it. You killed the moment.”

“Oh, don’t be like that, Tony.”

“Holy shit, was that a contraction I heard just now?”

“W-what? I do not know what you are talking about.”

“That contraction! You said ‘don’t,’ loud and clear. Don’t try to give me this robot bullshit again!”

“Contractions? I believe you are mistaken. I am not pregnant—”

“—God damn it—”

“—Although, you certainly did release enough inside of me to impregnate a normal human being.”

“Holy shit. Oh my God. I didn’t ask for this.”

Somewhere, between the bickering and the teasing, Tony ended up nestled against Vision’s chest with his arms around him. They talked after that, long into the night—breathing twinkling conversations about stars, love, and gods to one another—and Tony fell asleep in that same position, all responsibilities long forgotten. Although Vision did not need to sleep, he remained. And, for the first time in his life, he tried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY FUCK. I HATE PROOFREADING. FUCKING SHIT. I DON’T WANT TO READ 6000 WORDS OF MY SHITTY ROBOT PORN 20000000 TIMES TO CHECK FOR ERRORS THAT'LL SLIP THROUGH ANYWAY. AND ON TOP OF THAT, MY FRIEND OF MANY YEARS KEPT PESTERING ME ON WHAT I WAS WRITING (PORN, I SAID, YOU DON'T WANT TO KNOW, I SAID, **I'M SERIOUS** , I SAID, BUT NOOOO SHE KEEPS ON PRESSING ON), AND I EVENTUALLY HAD TO FUCKING SUBMIT BECAUSE IT WAS ONE IN THE FUCKING MORNING, AND IT WAS VERY KIND OF HER TO BETA IT, BUT GODDAMN IT THE SHAME HANGING ABOVE ME IS PRACTICALLY PALPABLE.  
> …  
> Okay, listen. I know what you’re thinking, and no, I don’t actually think Vision has the power to grow junk. Think of this as, ah, Vision-can-grow-a-dick AU. Yeah. Let's go with that. Er, I like Vision, and I wanted to write Vision smut, and I stuck him with Tony because… uh, cyberhusbands? There’s some pseudo-incestuous connotations, I _guess_ , but c’mon dude: literally everybody assisted in his creation. Everybody. Who didn’t, Fury? Do you want to read Fury/Vision porn? Do you? Do you really?  
> My lovely beta I mentioned previously is the amazingly patient [KXL](http://kxlinthesky.tumblr.com/). I'm not sure if she wanted credit for this--she might be as ashamed as I. Ah well. Too late now.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading~! I really appreciate it!


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